


how do i live, how do i breathe

by galactoc



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Character Death, Fire Lord Zuko, Graphic Description, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Miscarriage, Mpreg, Not Beta Read, Not Canon Compliant, Omega Verse, Omega Zuko, Triggers, Zuko Angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-14
Updated: 2018-02-07
Packaged: 2019-03-01 17:50:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 6,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13300095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/galactoc/pseuds/galactoc
Summary: A certain kind of fate awaits the two of them. Perhaps it twists and turns, or sets the world ablaze, and wreaks havoc on the quick slip of time. But they will never suffocate, not when they have each other. (abandoned, sorry)





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IMPORTANT WARNINGS  
> I chose not to use archive warnings because I haven't entirely planned out this fic yet, but be PREPARED for: dubcon, character death, underage, a possible miscarriage, and a whole lot of angst. this is my first time writing alpha/omega and mpreg. enjoy tho

It's one of the most intensely heated moments of his entire life, second only to the stinging burn inflicted on his face by his father. That was pain, raw and unrestrained, and it had broken something inside him.

Now Zuko feels pleasure, so concentrated and strong that it verges on the edge of pain. A blazing passion that has taken root within him without his knowledge and is twisting out of him now.

He feels his thighs, corded with muscle and covered in a sheen of sweat from exertion, push up against the other man's shoulders, against his own will. A bead of sweat travels gradually down his forehead, and the room seems suffocating, the air pressing down. 

But there's nothing save for the unsteady rhythm of his own breathing, the air thick with the scent of sex, and the slow dip of the silken sheets beneath them, as they go at an excruciatingly drawn out pace.

"Sokka," Zuko whines, scrabbling desperately, wanting more, more, more, to break free from this torture. He's so awfully sensitive that every touch of Sokka's fingers, every brush of his own back against the bed, every breath that finds purchase on his skin, makes him buzz and thrum with arousal. "Get the hell on with it."

Zuko's pupils are blown wide. Normally he would never beg but the steady throb of his pleasure that threatens to overwhelm him whole, makes him consider it.

Sokka runs a hand down the side of his face, the side with his scar, touching each groove with care. It contrasts his next words. "Look at you," he says, "Undone like that. The great Fire Prince Zuko, at the peak of his heat. I have to say I think I've done a pretty good job."

Then the Water Tribe boy thrusts hard into the prince without warning, making Zuko gasp and tighten his arms around his neck.

When he recovers in a daze, he tilts his head back to catch the other boy's gaze, growling, and to no one's surprise a certain familiar fire roars in them. Zuko smirks and replies, "That'll be Fire Lord Zuko to you, soon." Defiant as always.

In response, Sokka brushes a hand up the prince's chest, tweaking a nipple, and then follows that with a particularly hard ram into Zuko's spot at his favorite angle. The future Fire Lord is left barely able to form a coherent sentence, head tilted back to expose the delicate arc of his neck, mouth open in a silent cry of ecstasy. When Sokka returns to his agonizingly slow pace Zuko whines, loud and long, so hard it must be painful.

"How is it down there?"

"I want to change it up a little," and Zuko flips their positions so he's sitting atop him, arms holding him up, palms spread out on either side of Sokka's head. He groans, adjusting to the feeling of this even deeper penetration, but starts moving again to no avail.

"You're fucking insane," chokes out Sokka, and Zuko only smiles, twining his hips harder. "Omegas in heat are supposed to be, quote unquote, weak and submissive."

"Guess I missed that rule," he says, and Sokka makes a noise of pure pleasure.

"Zuko," he gasps, "Move- I'm going to-"

"You can do it right where you are," the Fire Lord says, stilling for a moment, face unreadable. There's tension in the dipping planes of his body, and it's not just from the sex. 

Sokka stills too. "Zuko- I- really? Are you.. are you sure? Woah, wait, we haven't even talked about- we're not even- how-"

"Don't think about it," the firebender says, "I've thought plenty enough. And I want it."

The Water Tribe boy observes the man  above him, leaning down, the blown fullness of his lips and the steady look in his eyes. Zuko may have been hotheaded, but he's learned a lot since then, and so as he. He's found his damn honor, on the path to his destiny, and he knows what he wants, now. He knows what he is.

Sokka flips them over again, and with another thrust he comes hard and fast.  He dips down low onto the other man as Zuko comes undone too, and they're both panting and gasping. He runs his hands up and down Zuko's sides, eliciting shudders, working him through the orgasm. He pulls out carefully and lays down next to him.

They entwine fingers, a silently shared moment.


	2. Chapter 2

Zuko is terrified, when he first feels the heartbeat of another life within him. He awakes in a cold sweat at night, propping himself up on one arm within his blankets, the other touching his stomach tentatively. It's still hard, smooth muscle, no signs of showing yet, but he can still feel it

He's not sure what his bad dreams were about, only that he awoke with the instinct to protect what's inside him.

He reaches across the silken sheets to feel nothing but empty space. A cold press of the blankets. He can wish and wish all he wants, but in the end he knows they have important duties to the world that are beyond just the two of them. They must suffer some distance, at times.

Zuko slips out of bed, feet hitting the floor silently. 

He hasn't told anyone yet, about the changes within him. Maybe he should.

He makes his way down from the bedroom chambers to the kitchens, feet a whisper. Pouring himself a cup of tea, reminiscent of his uncle, Zuko lets the jasmine wind its way through him, calming, relaxing, a serene liquid pool of hot.

Zuko sets the teacup back down, fingers clenched tight around it. What if this was a mistake? What if Sokka was right, and he wasn't ready? God, of course he was right, of course Zuko isn't ready to carry _life_ inside him and bring it to the world and raise it up, this was a mistake, he's not going to be able to-

He breathes. In and out. He's panicking.

Sokka told him to just breathe, when he felt his world crashing down around him inside his own mind, among the wreckage he's tried to bury deep away in his brain. Just breathe. In. Out. He lets go of the cup. In. He turns around to head back up. Out.

This wasn't a mistake. He's ready, he's able. 

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> based on comic The Promise. i'm changing a lot of the dialogue & scenes, though

When Zuko bursts outside his chambers for the fifth night in a row, the guards are thoroughly convinced he's having night terrors or is just going mad. He lifts one up by the front of his armor and snarls, "There's someone here! Someone's trying to assassinate me!"

And he was wrong the past four nights but this time, the low thrum of shifting shadows reveals itself just a little too quickly and he expels the fire from his fists in a fierce push of power. "Show yourself!" he cries into the darkness, and the masked girl that springs towards him is not what he expects.

And he can only think of one thing to protect; it isn't himself.

Zuko fights with the power he's mastered and perfected, aiming not to kill but to tire, and the girl evades his attacks skillfully but she is no match for the Fire Lord. He corners her against the wall. "Who dares assassinate the Fire Lord? You fool. Even sleeping, in my bed, I sensed you."

"My name is Kori Morishita," she says defiantly, and she barely looks his own age. "I'm stopping your Harmony Restoration Movement, from tearing apart my family and my community."

This is when Zuko comes to a grinding halt, and questions what he previously thought unquestionable.

The next day he awakes with nausea rising in his throat, and he hurries to the bathroom to make it just in time. Zuko's forehead burns, but not with fever. When the feeling dissipates he presses his cheek against the cool solid surface of the wall, breathing steadily.

Normally he would make an effort to look presentable, when traveling out to meet his people, but today the only face he'll be seeing is the father of the girl who tried to assassinate him last night. It's not like he knows much about tidying up, anyway. The maids always come to tie his topknot in place.

A washed out feeling of tiredness overwhelms him, threatens to take root in his bones. After a half-hearted attempt with his hair, he leaves it in a messy sort of half-tied thing and merely sits at the mirror. His undereyes are already beginning to bruise, from the sleepless nights, and a band of stress closes tight around his forehead. The armor is heavy on his shoulders.

Zuko closes his eyes, angry at himself for letting this happen- for overworking, for exhausting himself, for doing all of the wrong things when he should be paying the utmost attention to the life inside him.

He sleeps on the way to Yu Dao, hand resting gently on his flat stomach. He sends a fire hawk to Sokka, about the Movement, and he doesn't mention his morning sickness or his tiredness.

When Kori Morishita's father prostrates himself at Zuko's feet and begs mercy from the Fire Lord, he isn't surprised. His daughter did try to kill him, after all. But he is surprised when she keeps on snapping back, a stubborn child- it infuriates him, makes him see fire dance before his eyes. It's only when he stops to let her words process that he steps back to think about it.

Kori Morishita could be right. He looks around at the colonial buildings, a blend of sturdy earthbender green and fire scarlet, and at the people. They have been so integrated, that they are now... inseparable. Fire and Earth, here, are one.

Fire Lord Zuko rises, and says, "I'm withdrawing my support from the Harmony Restoration Movement." He thinks of the division between the nations today and imagines the lines blurred, the tribes fusing in a beautiful mix of people and culture. "This is something... I've never seen before. Something diverse. It has to stay this way."

Later, he gets the fire hawk back from Sokka. They're on their way, after hearing the news, to confront him.


	4. Chapter 4

When the three arrive within a wave of people, before getting right down to business, Sokka pulls Zuko aside into a private little area. Zuko can hear the resigned hum of his own men, the angry protests of the earthbenders, the compromising voice of Aang. And it all fades out, as he looks at the Water Tribe boy that stole his heart a long, long time ago.

"How are you?" asks Sokka, "Are you okay? You don't look so good. Has something been happening? Are you sleeping?" The thick scent roils off of him- concern. Fear. Worry. And he pulls Zuko into an embrace. 

"Don't mother me," says Zuko, but there's no real venom in his voice. "I've just been paranoid these past few nights, I get up because I think there's an assassin outside. But after this- well, after this, I'm going home to rest."

Sokka tilts Zuko's face towards him and their lips meet, in a touch of gentleness. Zuko can feel himself physically relax, some of the tension leaving his body. Sokka places one hand around his waist, stroking his stomach with his thumb. "Is the baby okay?"

Zuko jerks back, of his own accord. "I- I don't know. I don't know how to do this. Do you think it's okay- I've just been so tired, and I've been getting sick in the mornings, and I don't know, really, how to do this." He stops, surprised at his own outburst. Perhaps this pregnancy is making him emotional.

"Zuko," he says, "You're fine. Relax." He cups the other boy's face with his hand. "You've been sick in the mornings."

"Yes."

"That means the baby's gonna be a strong one."

Against his own will, Zuko smiles at the thought. Then it leaves as quickly as it came. "I- I know it's selfish... but I wish I could have you with me, all the time, Sokka. I wish we were never apart. I always need you."

And their foreheads are touching, breaths mingling. "Me too," whispers Sokka, and they're kissing, slow and unhurried. Calm but with the sparks of a fire beginning. "God, me too, Zuko."

At the fierce yelling of one of the earthbender protestors outside, they break apart, albeit reluctantly. Sokka nuzzles his nose into the slope of Zuko's neck, right at the mating bite. A tender gesture. "Hey," Sokka says, "No matter what happens with this Harmony stuff, just know I love you."

And Zuko can reply confidently, "I know," before they turn to breach the subject with the masses of angry people gathering.

* * *

_When they ride on Appa amidst all of the fireworks crackling in the sky, Zuko can only think about his father._

_He is Ozai's son._

_There's no accounting for him; he could step out of line at any minute now, lose his mind like Ozai did and become nothing more than a calculating, cold, heartless blade just thirsting for power. Time and time again his friends have told him he is nothing like his father. Nothing like the man who raised him. Who created him._

_How can they be so sure?_

_Zuko watches the back of Aang's head, the silver stripe running up it, coalescing into an arrow in the front. The avatar's shoulders shake with laughter, happiness clear in every line of his face and body, talking easily to Katara, oohing and aahing at the fireworks._

_He considers touching Aang on the shoulder. He imagines the boy turning around. And Zuko would say, "Aang, promise me. Promise me something. Promise me that if, in any way, I become my father, and I start doing the things he's done and thinking the way he does... promise me you'll end me. For good. I can't become that. For the world, and for myself."_

_Fire Lord Zuko considers this. And he thinks of the child forming inside him._

_He doesn't do it_ _._

_He can't pledge death now, not yet; he must let an innocent life live first._


	5. Chapter 5

When Zuko returns home he promises himself he'll rest. But there's no time. Between the war council meetings and discussions and contact with everyone from merchants to generals to the few protestors that have begun to rally outside his borders, there's no time for even a breath of air.

God, how he wishes Sokka were here.

He feels his will and mind begin to disintegrate. Gently, like petals falling off of a flower one by one. He fears that one day he may look down unknowingly and observe a vast meadow of dead leaves, and then look down at himself to see only a wilted stem.

At night Zuko has nothing but terrors, and when he comes outside again he realizes the Kyoshi warriors are situated outside. Ty Lee and Suki. Two trusted warriors, his friends, in a sense, and one of the best, if not the best, guards in the world.

And he still doesn't put his trust into them. He's going mad.

"I'm going to go for a drink of water," Zuko tells them with a sour, sinking feeling in his throat.

Suki calls after him, "Do you need an escort?"

"No," he says. An escort would do him no good here. Zuko makes his way down to the kitchens, and he doesn't pour himself water, but rather tea for two. It steams hot in his face, and something like pleasure unfurls in him, because it reminds him of his uncle. But the good feeling is squashed away when he remembers where he's heading.

Fire Lord Zuko sets down the tray beside the prison bars, head bowed in defeat.

He gives in to the evil.

"I need your advice," he says, "Father."

* * *

The moons under his eyes are prominent now. He loses some weight, sharpening the angles of his face and furrowing the cheekbones to a slight point. The nightly visits to his father in prison aren't helping.

The first night he visits, as soon as he enters, Ozai snarls, "Whose wretched child are you carrying?"

Zuko had tensed. "None of your business." He wonders, through all of the masking he wore everyday and his suppressants, and his father's deteriorating condition in the filthy confines of this prison, how his father can still sense these things at a moment's notice.

Ozai sneers. "Nobody knows yet, do they? A secret heir to the throne."

The next night Ozai had told him a story, about himself.

And the next, about morals.

Zuko's days are filled with work. Work, work, and work. He loses himself in it.

* * *

There's a small bump rounding out his abdomen. It's big enough that he can cup his hand around it, under it. Zuko touches his fingers down to where his womb would be through the skin, and breaks into a faint smile at the thought. His child. This is his child.

He sends a fire hawk to Sokka.


	6. Chapter 6

On the day Sokka's due for a visit, Zuko's heat starts. He can feel the growing burn in his body, the unbearable hot itchiness. At his bedside, he reaches easily for his suppressants. Then he freezes. Can he take them during pregnancy?

What if it harms the baby? God, he doesn't know. And there's no one he can ask, anyhow.

Zuko groans in frustration, plush against the bed sheets.

And when Sokka walks in later, he finds Zuko sprawled listlessly on his bed. At his entrance, the Fire Lord sits up, with some difficulty, wearing nothing but pants, clearly hard. His chest is flush and pupils blown wide, lips parted. His gaze is unfocused, but something flares bright in his eyes.

Sunlight cuts in through the windows, striping the pale leanness of his body, pooling into every dip and curve. His golden eyes shine bright with a certain ferocity, one shadowed in the dark and one brilliant under the light. The inky black hair has been pulled back into a knot, but strands have come loose, falling into his eyes.

"Sokka," he groans, and the smell of a desperate omega in heat, _his_ omega in heat, hits him hard. "I've been waiting for you."

And while Sokka does have self-control, he can barely restrain himself when he joins Zuko on the bed, kissing him. "How long have you been like this?"

Zuko clutches at him desperately. "Not long. Heat started this morning... didn't know if suppressants would hurt the baby or not," he pants in reply, "So I didn't take any."

Sokka places his hand on Zuko's stomach, something like an indescribable joy clenching him. "You're showing."

And Zuko's eyes seem to clear, if not just a bit. "Yeah," he says, "Yeah, I am."

"How far along are you?"

"Two moons, and then some. Maybe two and a half."

A moment of shared silence, at this wonder. Then-

"The suppressants won't hurt the baby," comes the reply, "I've helped Katara treat pregnant omegas. They take suppressants without a problem, I'm sure of it."

Zuko sags in relief, moving to get his, and Sokka stops him. "I'll get them."

It only takes a few minutes for Zuko's breathing to return to normal, the flush fading. His undergarments are already soaked through, he can feel them, but all he does is stand up and look out towards the window, one hand coming up to rest protectively on his abdomen without him even realizing.

Sokka comes up behind him, sliding his hands over Zuko's shoulders, nuzzling his neck at the mating bite. He trails slow, gentle kisses up the side of the Fire Lord's neck, his face, all the while kneading the tense line of his back.

Zuko has never been able to resist melting, around Sokka- he simply relaxes, eased, the lines disappearing from the furrow of his brow and his hands unfurling at the pleasure of the feeling. He turns around to face him.

Sokka kneels and presses his lips to his stomach.

"Sokka," Zuko breathes, and when they make love that night, it's tender and flush. They fall asleep facing each other, entwined.


	7. Chapter 7

His father tells him that Kuei's army will soon march towards Yu Dao with the intention of battle. The Earth King wouldn't stand for this humiliation, Ozai tells him, and he'll be prepared for battle.

Zuko doesn't believe him. Perhaps he doesn't want to believe it. 

* * *

_Zuko-_

_I do hope you're getting some rest. For the baby and yourself. I know with this Harmony Restoration thing there's been a lot of work, but remember the world isn't balanced on your shoulders. You can always ask for help._

_The baby's growing so quickly. I can hardly wait. I wondered, if it was a boy or a girl. I have some fantastic name ideas already. There's Sokka II, or Sukka for a girl, or we could combine our names: Zukka. So many possibilities._

Zuko smiles at the familiar messy scrawl and the baby names. No way in spirits was he going to let the baby be named any of those. Sokka would certainly try, though.

_But in all seriousness, I have news._

_There's been tensions between the Southern and Northern Water Tribes at the pole and my father needs me to help him with the situation. I'm traveling to the South Pole as we speak, with Katara. I know it's a long distance away, and I'm sorry for that. There's nothing more I want right now than to be with you. But I have to help Hakoda._

_As soon as I return, I'm coming to you. No doubt about that._

_Zuko- if you need me, if something happens, send your fastest fire hawk right away. I won't waste any time flying back to you._

_I love you._

_-Sokka_

Zuko rarely cries, and when he does, it's when he's reached his brim and his life is twisted up in an unrecognizable mess. He cried when his father burnt him. When Azula shot lightning through his uncle. When he faced her, one last time, in their fated agni kai. 

Now, he cries, but he doesn't feel entangled in a mess on the inside. He feels empty, too empty, devoid of things, devoid of love. His mate is on the other side of the world. _If you need me,_ Sokka had written, but didn't he know that Zuko needed him every waking moment?

When Zuko changes for bed, he first notices the light spotting in his undergarments. A few small blooms of blood, light. 

He doesn't panic; he knows this is a normal part of pregnancy. It still worsens his mood, makes the empty feeling emptier. Their mating bond has been stretched out to its thinnest point, and Zuko imagines it like a long line. He doesn't want it to snap.

When he goes to bed that night he places a hand protectively around his stomach, and imagines Sokka there with him. Sokka spooning him, nuzzling his face into Zuko's neck, and placing his hand on top of Zuko's. He would layer Zuko with all the warmth and love in the world.

The ache is so painful.

* * *

"How is the baby doing?" Ozai asks with a sneer, and Zuko ignores him, although his gut churns with the fear his father's words strike.

"I tell you," Ozai says, "The army is marching towards Yu Dao as we speak. Don't be a fool, and send your own forces."

"They wouldn't so easily go to war over this," Zuko snaps.

Later he is informed. Kuei's army is marching towards Yu Dao.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one's straight from the comic

Zuko is spotting almost everyday, now. He doesn't remember the taste of real sleep, waking up in the morning with the tiredness seeped out of his bones. He feels like deadweight. And when he dresses as the Fire Lord he knows he can't go on for a while longer without showing through his robes.

He'll have to tell the people soon. But for now, he keeps his waist un-cinched and deals with more important matters.

Before Zuko finds out about the approaching Earthern army, there is a night when he visits his father, and he tells him about his childhood.

"Do you remember those family vacations we used to take on Ember Island?" Ozai says. "Once, at the beach- you couldn't have been older than three at the time- we saw a hawk attacking a turtle-crab by the water. You ran as fast as your little legs would carry you to rescue that turtle-crab. Even then, you possessed an odd affinity for the weak."

Zuko is silent.

"But then, when you had the turtle-crab safely in your arms, you hesitated. The hawk looked at you with hungry eyes, and you realized you were condemning it to starve. You didn't know whether to side with the hawk or the turtle-crab. Before you could reach a decision, a giant wave washed over you and carried you out into the ocean. 

"I dove in myself to save you. You spent the rest of the day in your mother's arms, vomiting seawater."

"I came here looking for advice," says Zuko. "I want to know how you were able to sleep peacefully in spite of the pressures of the throne."

"And I told you," Ozai replies.

* * *

"I stayed up all night thinking about what you said," Zuko slides the tray of tea until it hits the prison bars. "At the beach, I was overwhelmed by my circumstances because I couldn't decide which side to take. I should have sided with the hawk. It was strong and noble, much like the fire nation. It had earned its meal.

"But I've already done that, father!" he shouts in a sudden flare of anger, "I'm no longer neglecting the needs of my own people, as I did when I first took the throne! And I still can't sleep!"

"You're only partially correct in your assessment," Ozai says. "Your sleeplessness does indeed stem from your inability to choose sides, to distinguish what is right."

Ozai takes a sip of his tea. "But you're wrong about the hawk."

"So you're saying... I should have defended the turtle-crab? I should have sided with the weaker of the two?"

"What I'm saying is- _there is no right or wrong apart from what you decide_. Who you choose to defend deserves to be defended simply because you chose them."

Zuko stills.

"You are the Fire Lord," declares Ozai. "What _you_ choose, by definition, is _right_."


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry exams week took up all my time!! here's a long chapter to make up for it

Zuko sends spies out to the earthbenders. When General Mak comes back with word of their advancing army, he isn't as surprised as he thought he would be. "You were right, father," he says to himself.

His army collides with the Earth king's at the foot of the walls of Ba Sing Se, and it's only then that he can fully process what's happening. He's here, nearly starting a war, and men will die, wound each other, bleed to death, suffer... Another war, another fated demise, and who will tell the soldiers' families what happened to them? Why they died, during a long awaited peacetime, at the Fire Lord's orders?

Zuko sees the Avatar in the distance, eyes already glowing dangerously and tattoos a shining silver, rising up despite the shouts of the people. The fighting has already started, men yelling angrily, perhaps for a cause they don't even realize.

Ozai had said that Zuko was above morals, above the good and evil, and that what he chose, by definition, was right.

 _Wrong_. He's wrong, Zuko thinks, the twisted, bitter old man. Zuko knows that right and wrong is bigger than him, than the Avatar, than anybody on Earth. It is the universal law that binds everyone together. A cosmic thread. Ozai believes he is above it, and his heart is pure obsidian, evil at its barest exposed core. Cold. Desolate. And bottomless.

And now- and now, look at the new Fire Lord. His armor heavy on his shoulders, perched atop some war animal, with an army ready to rip apart and burn to shreds.

Zuko is Ozai. Ozai is Zuko. In a year, in five, in a decade, will he even recognize himself?

Or will he be the spitting image of his father, and the world will be in ashes again bowing at the foot of the Fire Nation?

When Aang bestows his fury on him, he protests weakly, but the words evaporate from his mouth as if they never made any sense. "I'm doing exactly what my father would do," Zuko whispers just to himself, and the ground beneath his feet splits into two.

When he tips into the chasm, he doesn't fight it. It's only when he is well into the air that his eyes snap open, defiant.

He will not let this baby go.

"Aang, wait!" He shouts, knowing it's hopeless, but he tries anyway, and there is nothing more surprising than the feeling of a warm hand gripping him by the robes of his arm, pulling him back to safety. For a moment, Zuko almost believes he has died and risen.

But no. He's alive. And his baby is safe.

"Wait!" the Earth king shouts amidst all of the chaos, and it's deathly quiet save for his murmuring voice. "I just need to see..."

Zuko almost falls over with exhaustion, from the rush that came so quickly that's gone, but he manages to keep upright from sheer force of will. Sweat is matting his hair down, running down one side of his face and dripping over his scar.

Aang's glow fades and he looks determinedly at the people. "This is something... _different_ ," he says, "Different from the territories of the divided kingdoms. This is a place where benders of all elements can come together, and live in harmony. This is something new."

Later, when Aang and Zuko talk privately in candle light, Aang will tell Zuko he was never going to kill him. 

"In the Avatar State," he says, "I could sense the spirits, and the world, and somehow, I could sense you and the baby. And I knew that I wouldn't kill you, baby or not. When the Earth split under your feet it was an uncontrolled wave of power from me... but I always knew I could save you. Even though you didn't fight it at first."

"I think I knew, too," Zuko will reply, "That you wouldn't kill me either."

And later, the colony of Yu Dao will come to be called Republic City.

Now, it's beautiful, and Zuko can barely step back into his carriage. His head hurts, his eyes, his scar, his limbs... spirits, everything hurts. He will see Aang soon, to discuss among themselves. Now, he only asks for rest.

"So I was right?" he breathes, "All along, I was right?"

And he collapses.

* * *

Zuko doesn't awake for four days.

When he comes to, he's between the plush sheets of his bed. He's back in his chambers, he realizes, as his eyes focus blearily one at a time. The jumbled sights assemble into his bedroom, and noise recedes into silence. There's no one else here.

Zuko is awash with relief when the memories come flooding back: how Aang nearly killed him, but saved him, and no war was ever started, and Yu Dao could become a colony of something new.

He is awash with relief until he feels the pain.

A high throbbing clutching at his abdomen, borderline agony. Zuko cries out, softly, at the realization, and when he shifts to sit up he can feel something.

A growing wetness, between his legs, sticking to his sheets and skin and the stench, spirits, the stench hits him full blow in the face.

And he feels his world fall apart right then and there.

Zuko knows, instinctively, that it's too late. It's much too late to save it. And the horrifying reality of it all comes crashing at him, and all he can do, immobile, is hunch further over, a low keening sound rising from his throat, nearly hysterical. 

One of the nurses or servants steps softly outside his chambers. "Are you in need of anything, Fire Lord Zuko?"

Zuko is numb. And somehow, through some last will of strength within him, he speaks. "No," he says, too quiet of a whisper at first, and raises his voice, "No. Please have me left undisturbed."

"As you wish, Lord Zuko," she says, and the footsteps fade away.

He trembles now, slowly at first but rising in crescendo, and he can only look down blankly at his own fingers that shake with fear and grief. And a longing. Oh, spirits, such a longing for his mate. There is already an empty feeling inside him that threatens to spill out in a mess of black and eat him whole.

Zuko's fingers still shake as he brings them to his sheets, up to his waist, and he ignores the pain shooting up his body. The line of his shoulders is tense and unforgiving, and he breathes in fear once. Twice. Three times. And he rips the blankets off of him, throwing them off the bed.

Looking down, Zuko bites back a scream.

* * *

Sokka receives the Fire Hawk at a crisp arctic daybreak with the wind under his breath. He feels a sense of serenity, only disrupted by a slight nagging feeling at the back of his mind that says otherwise.

But he knows that Zuko hates when he mothers him, so Sokka pushes the feeling away.

When the hawk comes he nearly runs with excitement, until the letter rolls open in his hands. He can already smell it- the scent of his omega, and it is strong, anguished, and pungent. It smells of fear and anger and pain and grief and... and death.

The letter is only a few words long.

It falls from his hands, fluttering slowly to the ground, until it lands. A sheet of elegant paper stark against the ice.

By sunrise he is well on his way to the Fire Lord's palace.

* * *

Zuko doesn't know what to do with the baby's remains. It's tiny, and he's horrified to look at it, horrified that his body passed it in his fit of struggling unconsciousness. He musters enough firepower to burn his sheets, burn them and the blood to a crisp, but he doesn't know what to do with the little body.

Zuko leaves the remains in a box. He will give it a burial later. 

And the pain is still there, getting worse, and he fetches a towel from his bathroom and is passing blood, so much blood and tissue. He doesn't know what to do. He doesn't know at all.

"I need help," he whispers to himself, feeling pathetic, but there is no help, there is no Sokka.

And then he remembers what Suki had said to him once, as she stood guard outside his chambers.

"Remember that you have friends who care about you," she had said, "You can always ask for help."

So he does. He calls for Suki. 

When she arrives at his door he tells her to come inside, swallowing his pride and dignity, and her eyes only widen fractionally in surprise. Zuko can't form words. "Suki- I- I need your help. I was- I was- I-" he swallows "-I was pregnant, and I lost the baby"- his breath hitches- "and I've just been bleeding and it hurts- I put the baby, in that box"- and he doesn't look at that box, because he can't- "And I'm still bleeding, and I don't know, I don't know what to do about it. I don't know. You said you, I could ask you, for help, so I-" And he can't speak anymore, not ever, so he stops abruptly and tries to control his breathing.

Zuko screws his eyes tight shut, and in a few seconds he feels the warm press of a body against his, enveloping him, and without even wanting to he relaxes. The scent of Suki is all calm beta, soft and beautiful.

"Spirits," she whispers softly, and when they pull apart she places a gentle hand on Zuko's abdomen as he pants in pain. "I'm glad you called me for my help, Zuko."

He nods, jerkily.

"It looks like now that you've already passed the baby your womb is just passing tissue; it's trying to clean itself out. I'm not a healer, Zuko, but I can call one of the nurses here. They can-"

"I don't want anyone else to know," Zuko says, almost sobbing, and Suki thinks.

"Here's what I'll do," she says after a moment, "I'll go to one of the nurses and I'll tell her my friend has had a miscarriage, and what should I do, and I'll get the information. I'll come back here and help you."

"Thank you," he gasps, hiccups, "Thank you, Suki."

She stands to leave. "Zuko, is he on his way?"

"What?"

"Sokka," she says, "Is he on his way?"

"I-  I- sent him a Fire Hawk," says Zuko. She nods. Then with a determined expression, sets out. "Just rest for now, okay, Zuko?" she says. "I promise the pain will stop soon."

It's only after she leaves that he finds the strength to cry.

* * *

Sokka keeps himself from crying, in the arctic air. He doesn't deserve to cry. He will be there when Zuko does, though, he promises himself that.


	10. Chapter 10

"You've got to drink this," Suki says, tipping the glass to Zuko's lips, "It's going to clean out your womb and pass the rest of the tissue. It's going to hurt, but it won't be long."

She smells the strong twisting scent of fear that spikes from him. She continues, "I asked the most skilled, reliable nurses in the Fire Nation," trying to mask his scent with her calm one.

He allows her to tip it in, and he swallows all of it without stopping, only gasping afterwards at the acerbic taste. "That's awful," he chokes.

As the first strike of pain shoots through him, Zuko crumples back down onto the bed. "Spirits," he whispers, as it intensifies.

"I'll be here, Zuko," Suki tells him decidedly, grasping onto his hand, but he withdraws it. 

"No," he says, "I have to do this myself."

"Zuko-"

"This is my pain," he continues. "And besides, you have a job to do. I'll be fine."

"You don't always have to be alone, you know."

"I know. But I choose it this time."

After she leaves he spasms again, gripping the newly replaced bedsheets with pale fingers. It won't be long, he tells himself, it won't be long.

* * *

Sokka's clenching his hands into fists so tightly his fingers are paling. With great effort, he relaxes them.

He won't reach the palace for almost another day. 

He thinks of the Fire Lord. Perhaps if Sokka had stayed with his mate, stayed with him through the pregnancy, nurtured and loved and cared for him from the start of it, this wouldn't have happened. What was he thinking? They had been separated for weeks at a time, and at the peak of Zuko's pregnancy he had left for the South Pole.

The South Pole.

Perhaps if Sokka had been the mate that Zuko had deserved, this wouldn't be happening. But now Sokka had fucked up, and Zuko had to suffer for it.

Sokka's hands tighten in on themselves again.

**Author's Note:**

> weekly updates


End file.
